Brat!
by the infamou5 c0pyc4t
Summary: Training with Hiyori turns out to be a pain in the ass... Hers, too. MA


**Brat!**

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"You dickhead! Stop dickin' around!"

Ichigo was tossed violently through the air, courtesy of Sarugaki Hiyori's sandal. With her Hollow mask on, it packed quite the punch, and Ichigo now knew that almost as well as Shinji. Collapsing in a heap of rubble, the newest addition of the Visored crew seethed and tried to force himself to his feet. Strength had eluded him for some time now after constantly equipping his mask, but he soldiered on: partly because of his own willpower, mostly because Hiyori demanded it. Normally, Hacchi or Love or someone would condemn her brutal methods, but Ichigo was out of luck; the majority of the Visored were out, either to attend an anime convention, or to look after Mashiro while she pranced about town. Only one had elected to stay behind to supervise the progress of Ichigo and the ruthlessness of Hiyori, and she could hardly pry her eyes away from the swimsuit models of her latest magazine. Every now and then, Yadoumaru Lisa would monotonously encourage Ichigo not to give up.

Standing on a plateau high above where Ichigo crashed, Hiyori crossed her arms while glaring through the eyes of her mask. The terrifying accessory was pushed up so that Ichigo could see her disapproving glower. "Is that all you've got? I don't know why Shinji thought you were gonna be any good to us! You won't amount to shit at the rate you're going!"

"Dammit…" Ichigo forced himself to his feet, pushing off the stones that had fallen over him. Out of breath and shaking with exhaustion, his huge blade came in front of him, handled in both hands. "I can keep going," he assured her less than a second before both of her feet came careening into his face. The back of his head crushed the slab of earth behind him from the force of the impact. His shout of pain was muffled underneath her feet: one bare and the other sandaled.

After completing a back-flip that transferred her from Ichigo's face to the ground in front of him, she scoffed, "_Ha!_ Stop talking tough when you're so weak! You just look stupid! Stupid! _Stupidstupidstupid_! Stupid dickhead! And what's worse, you're _bald!_ Baldy!" She continued to berate him nonsensically.

Ichigo staggered from the vicious beating, seeing double of everything. Placing a hand on his head, he collected himself. He wasn't quite sure what was giving him more of a headache: having his head smashed into solid rock or Hiyori's unending rambling. After training, he'd need to get some serious bed rest.

Grabbing the bandaged hilt of Zangetsu, he prepared to make another stand against the feisty blonde. Unfortunately, with him drained of reiatsu, Hiyori's sandal proved to be the better weapon in this conflict. Even without her mask, she effortlessly slapped him around until his legs gave out and he fell face-first onto the ground.

"What a loser!" jeered Hiyori, adding injury to insult by stomping her bare foot on his skull. He grimaced, but could do naught to stop her. "Loser! Why don't you get your thumbs outta your ass before you try to fight me?" Even though he tried, Ichigo couldn't snap back at her with her foot compressing his cheek.

Dull eyes lifted from the perverted pages of the swimsuit magazine. "Hiyori, if you keep provoking him like that, he's going to make you regret it. Remember when he lost control before?" It was doubtful that Ichigo would be pushed to that breaking point just by a verbal beating accompanying a physical one. She turned the page, and her turquoise orbs resumed shamelessly observing. Before Hiyori could seriously take heed of the warnings, she went on with an afterthought, "Then again, to be able to call upon the Hollow's power willfully, the Hollow doesn't have the strength to take over. I guess there's nothing to worry about after all." She spoke so nonchalantly that it was difficult to tell if she was a jokester.

"_Oi_, just be quiet, Lisa! I can take care of this dickhead all on my own with my eyes closed!" Hiyori blurted out, limbs sprawled unladylike. "He has less talent than a brainless mutt!" She kept her eyes on Lisa, even as Ichigo dragged himself back to his feet, wobbled left to right, and lunged at her. With the care of swatting away a bothersome insect, Hiyori pivoted and smacked Ichigo back to the ground. "**_See?!_**" she exclaimed before punishing Ichigo with an unrelenting assault of sandal slaps. "He's worthless!"

Lisa harrumphed quietly and kept her eyes on her magazine.

"Dammit!" she heard Ichigo roar; he must've finally mounted enough annoyance from Hiyori's onslaught to push through the burn of his exhaustion. With a haphazard swing of his Zanpakutou, he managed to ward the pigtailed blonde to a distance. That was enough for him to feel secure enough to use Zangetsu as a brace whilst he collected his breath. "I… _pant…_ I need a quick break." He may have wanted to get in control of his new Visored powers as soon as possible, but he wasn't going to get anywhere if all he was doing was getting hit in the face time and again by a sandal.

"A break?" Hiyori spat in offense. She pointed aggressively at him. "You think you've earned a break?! You haven't made any progress! And look what you did!" Two fingers tugged at the collar of her white t-shirt, displaying just a tiny nick. "You ruined my clothes with that shitty sword swing! You think I'm just going to let you sit on your ass after that?!"

"That shirt is cheap and you have dozens more," Lisa pointed out. Once again, her attention wandered from her reading material, her lens catching a glare from the nonexistent sun when she adjusted them. "Of course, if clothing damage concerns you so much, perhaps it would be easier for you to train while nude."

Both Ichigo and Hiyori blushed furiously at the perverted suggestion; Lisa carried on with her reading as though nothing awkward had been said. While Hiyori blabbered – never really having any real insults stored for Lisa beyond 'pervert' and 'four-eyes' – Ichigo wracked his brain trying to figure out why he had to join such an oddball bunch. Couldn't he just encounter someone sensible every once in a while? He knew that something was off about Lisa's obsession with the naked bodies of men and women, but her suggesting that they strip their clothing and continue on with training was just too outlandish to comprehend.

Lisa bore the brunt of the two yammering away at her, though she hardly cared. Hiyori was always short-tempered and would spew whatever insults came to mind, and Ichigo was nothing more than a closet-pervert, trying to lay all of his hang-ups on her to cope with his own fondness of smut. When they had calmed down enough for her to get a word in edgewise, she calmly stated, "If you both are so edgy, perhaps you should just fuck and get it out of your system. All your aggravation is interrupting my studies."

How could she call ogling porn magazines studying? Rather, what had she just said?! Ichigo's brain frazzled, and he found himself unable to recall what was said. Surely it couldn't have been as vulgar and blunt as what he could suppose. How could he feel pale and flushed at the same time?

"Wha-what?" blurted out the blushing Hiyori. She trembled furiously as she threw a finger out to the raven-haired Visored. "You…! You perverted pervert! I… _I…!_" Too upset for words and insults, she brought her sword out in front of her, trading her sandal for it.

Rather than direct her aggression on Lisa, she sought to unleash on Ichigo. Without warning, she went at him with the intent of causing serious pain like he was the one who got her so flustered. Ichigo blocked the broad sweep coming to his left, but just barely. Yelling that she might've cleaved him in half, he assumed to don his Hollow mask. Much to his relief, before Hiyori could follow up with a second, life-endangering chop, the mask came to him, heightening reflexes, speed, and power; it was more than enough to fend off Hiyori's sword and have her reeling. Quickly, he sought to press his advantage and keep her on the defensive. With the boost of stamina his mask afforded him, he hammered against her Zanpakutou, not giving her the chance to retaliate or bring out her own mask.

He kept the upper hand for a solid three seconds before his power-up dissolved in shattering pieces. All at once, the power and the confidence that came with it fled, and he was dealt a kick to the gut before the fact that he had nothing left to give to the fight could register. He took a few staggering steps back prior to dropping to his knees, gasping and shaking with fatigue.

"You're done now, aren't you, baldy?" Hiyori barked at him. She sheathed her blade and tossed it to the side. Even if Ichigo dared to challenge her again, taking out her katana was unnecessary when she had her trusty sandals at the ready. "What a pathetic baldy!"

Ichigo propped himself up on his elbows and glared at her. He was not exactly threatening in his pitiful state. "Shut up with 'baldy'! No one here is bald, you moron!"

"_Huh?!_" Hiyori pointed at him frantically. "You think you can talk to _me_ like that?! Look at you!" She stormed over to him and sneered. "You're such a weak pansy! I bet you don't even _have_ a dick, do you, dickhead?"

What was she thinking? Ichigo's eyes went wide when her bare foot came down at the juncture of his legs. Luckily, she did not crush the bits underneath her sole, but she did grind her foot against him. He tried to admonish her sudden boldness, but the most that left his clenching throat were unintelligible stutters that hardly even formed a syllable. In response to her touches and in defiance of his integrity, the organ beneath Hiyori's foot started to solidify. Finally, Ichigo managed to spew out a curse, but it was directed to his own, hormonal weakness. Trying to peep at Rangiku during her 'show' to convince him to let her stay at his house was one thing; getting hard under the foot of a bitch-of-a-trainer was another level of perverseness that Ichigo had hoped never to reach.

It took Hiyori a moment to notice what was happening underneath her foot. Really, all she wanted was to inflict some pain – being fond of preying on the tender target between annoying guys' legs – but this reaction honestly shocked her. Taken aback, clenching her teeth as her freckled cheeks flushed a little, she stammered out, "Wha-what's this? You a pervert or something?" In his loose hakama, she could clearly identify the stiffening shaft growing underneath her foot.

That she didn't take her foot away immediately was baffling, but Ichigo – despite how it ached to move – squirmed away from her, cheeks flaring red as he glared at her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he blabbered, sounding and looking like an immature boy as he threw his hands on his annoyingly-rigid genitals.

Hiyori blinked several times, still finding it a shock to get _that_ kind of rise out of him while she was grinding her foot onto his 'family jewels'. Of course, she was never one to allow herself to be caught off guard for long, even if some guy did pop a boner under her foot. "You're a pervert," she accused with a pointing finger and a cocky smirk; she did her best to ignore the nervous sweat rolling down the side of her face. "I knew you were attracted to my womanly charms."

In desperation to disprove her egotistical theories, Ichigo exclaimed at her, "That's not it! And what 'womanly charms'?! You have none!"

"_Stu~pid!_ My tits, my _tits!_" To emphasize more, she put her hands underneath the small mounds and heaved them up as much as she could; her breasts hardly made a decent A-cup and barely stood out her loose t-shirt. Even if they were small, she was proud of them and often proclaimed that their 'modesty' added to her allure.

Though there wasn't much to look at, Ichigo still flushed when the blonde unabashedly groped herself. Her white shirt was rather loose, so when she bent over and pushed her underdeveloped bosoms together, Ichigo noticed that she made the line of a modest cleavage. Seething, he turned away from her and held on tightly to the bandaged hilt of Zangetsu. "Never mind it!" he blurted out, still forcing his attention to the side. Despite his earlier fatigue and pain, he fought his way to a low-stooped defensive stance. His knees buckled, and it cost him a bit of pride when he fell down on one knee; defiantly, he still kept his sword up in front of him. "Let's… let's keep going!" Anything to take his mind off his shame and this whole mishap…

"What are you?! _Stupid?!_" Hiyori pointed offensively at him, taking her hands away from supporting her chest. "I'm not coming at you while you have…!" She glanced quickly at where the bulge pressed out against his hakama. "_That!_" She turned away and folded her arms. Pursing her lips and staring off into the distance with a blush on her freckled cheeks, she frowned with her fang peeking out at the side of her mouth. "Take care of it first, and then we can continue."

"How am I supposed to do that?!" Ichigo dumbly exclaimed without thinking. As soon as the words were blurted from his mouth, he regretted them and wished that he could swallow them back before they reached Hiyori's ear.

Unfortunately, his Bankai afforded him great speed, but not the power to reverse time. Hiyori slid her eyes to him without turning towards him. "That's _your_ problem. If you need to… 'rub one out'…" Even for her foul mouth, she hinted at a bit of unease when using the suggestive expression. "… go use the bathroom upstairs. I don't want to know how you take care of it!"

Both were fuming, glaring and just plain awkward. Ichigo wanted to take care of it, but mentally reciting un-arousing things like the alphabet wasn't very effective. Still, it'd be a cold day in hell before he demeaned himself by trudging himself to the bathroom to alleviate the problem.

"I don't see what you two are squabbling about. This is a perfect opportunity."

When had Lisa snuck up next to him?! Ichigo instinctively leapt to the side. Being so near the infamous pervert of Shinji's Visored gang set him on edge. Lisa's glasses caught a glare that hid her eyes, even though she adjusted her lens on the bridge of her nose skeptically. She then folded her arms and turned to Ichigo; he still could not see her eyes through the light. "Ichigo, why not take advantage? I told both of you earlier, didn't I?" Before the two short-tempered combatants could recall Lisa's vulgar suggestion and shout at her, she held up a finger pointedly. "Sex can rid you a stress. And when you're done, you'll both be feeling much chipper. Don't be so prudish."

"_Lisa! Go away!_" Hiyori screeched, pointing to the stairs leading out of the wasteland. She was red with anger and embarrassment. "_If all you're gonna do is stand there and…!_"

"It's fine," Lisa interrupted, still eyeing Ichigo. "I'll take the initiative if you are still too bashful."

"Initiative?" Ichigo and Hiyori asked in unison.

It did not take Lisa more than a moment to strike with a nimble hand to extract his waist sash; it came from all those years of pranking/humiliating Kyoraku-taichou whenever he had done something irksome. 'Pantsing' a captain required more skill than an impudent teen whose rage was already focused elsewhere. Ichigo could only stare dumbly as his hakama dropped about his ankles, leaving him standing in an undignified posture in his tenting fundoshi. And once again, Lisa made short work of his dignity.

"_What are you doing?!_" yelped Ichigo when his underwear fell. With quick reflexes – not quick enough to stop Lisa, mind you – he clenched his legs together and threw his hands over his appendage. He tried to shuffle backward, but with his hakama bundled around his ankles, he had made a poor decision. Losing his balance – and his normally-quick reflexes – he dropped on the ground, thighs splayed open and everything on display.

Hiyori's eyes went wide, unconsciously following the bobbing motion of the suddenly-exposed member. Her mouth flexed, and she uttered a syllable or two, but nothing was coherent. In her head, there was a constant buzzing, muting any insult that usually sprung straight from mind to lips; she was entranced by the penis. For all her vulgarity, it wasn't often that she saw the anatomy of a man – aside from when she secretly stole Lisa's male-model magazines – and it was her first time seeing one in person. The magazines had prepared her for those who could boast an impressive girth, but she was still surprised by his length.

Ichigo wasn't given the opportunity to hide his shame; Lisa was at his side without a moment's hesitation and holding a measuring stick of all things next to his erection. He blabbered "_What are you doing?!_" but Lisa was already done, glancing at the ruler where her thumb had marked the measurement. "Almost eighteen centimeters," she observed with a bit of congratulation in her voice. She looked at him; he had quickly seized the hakama tangled around his heels to throw over his pelvis. "What's the point of covering it up now?" she murmured snidely, as if upset that the object of interest was covered up. She gestured to Hiyori, whose trance had been broken when the cock was hidden. "We both saw it, and we both know it's still there. Look. Even now, we can see it rigid." She boldly pointed at his crotch, causing him to make a better effort to hide himself. "What's there to be so ashamed of? It's not like you're small or something."

"Only a pervert like _you_ would think there's nothing wrong!" Ichigo barked at her. He wanted to try to pull his pants back on, but there wasn't much of a chance of doing so without flashing his privates again. He would've demanded that the two of them leave or at least turn around if he had thought there was a chance that they might listen to him, but he had come to learn that the majority of these Visored were unbearably, frustratingly stubborn. "What is it with all of you?!" he blabbered, shuffling his feet back while looking for a boulder to hide behind. Unfortunately, his latest collision destroyed the closest hiding spot. "You're all a bunch of _freaks!_"

Hiyori was initially startled by his raised voice; normally, she was the one doing the screeching to win an argument. Having the tables turned on her didn't sit to well with her. "What? What are _you_ complaining about, you dickish dickhead?!" she venomously retorted, pointing with a flailing arm.

At once, the two hotheads entered a bout of bickering, and Lisa determined that the formula for a steamy conclusion was well-underway. She could almost grin at her craftiness.

"You're yelling at _me_?!" Hiyori went on, not giving a chance for a retort from the orange-haired idiot still slacking off on his ass. "I'm the one who had to see that… that… _thing_ between your legs! I wasn't sure you even had one, but I didn't want to know! How am I supposed to erase that image from my mind?!"

Ichigo blushed, scowled, but didn't respond. He didn't feel it was his fault; Lisa was the one who stripped him of his clothes and dignity all in one fell swoop. Probably the worst part was that he was still hard beneath his bunched-up pants. Aside from the Hollow dwelling within his soul, his cock was the most traitorous part of him.

"You two are acting like such children," Lisa scolded the two of them before their bickering could escalate. Calmly, she approached the boy on the ground, and with little effort, hefted him to his feet. He kept his clothes tight to his groin; little could be done about the solid protrusion that Hiyori could still discern.

Why was she still looking, she admonished herself, though her brown eyes remained in contact with the straining outline of the appendage.

"Instead," Lisa went on, still clutching on the reluctant and bashful Ichigo's arm, "why not settle it like you should?" She looked directly at Ichigo then, pressing in close with an intense glower behind the lens of her glasses. "Cooperate," she whispered to him, "and it won't be so bad."

"_Hey!_" Ichigo lunged with a start, instinctively lifting up on his toes and staring down wide-eyed at his cock, which was being handled by Lisa's very skilled hand. He stammered, watching her fingers slide back and forth on his hard shaft. No aid of lotion or velvet, yet her touch was so heavenly. He twitched fiercely in her grasp; so fierce, in fact, that the tip squirted a small amount of pre-cum, barely missing her bare thigh below the hem of her skirt.

Though Lisa was blocking her view of the goings-on, Hiyori watched. She was in her 'anti-social', hunched-over stance, but was still undeniably staring in their direction. Her eyes narrowed, her lower lip stiffening. "Can't see anything…" Trying not to be too obvious, she shuffled around, hoping to find a better angle. Ichigo was busy moaning and being stupid, and Lisa seemed focused on stroking him. A deep gulp was followed by another, further slide of her foot, and then she caught a glimpse of Ichigo. One more scoot would give her an optimum vantage.

"Instead of sneaking around…"

Hiyori stiffened, leaning back as though caught against a sudden gale wind.

Lisa snapped her head so quickly that her braided ponytail cracked through the air like a whip. "Why not stop being a coward and face it directly?" As if trying to sell the idea to her young cohort, she stepped to one side and presented Ichigo's shameful erection with alluring grace; the way she was showing off the dick, it was a wonder Lisa never tried to become a showcase model.

Hiyori's eyes fastened on the dripping cock for a moment, sizing him up, before responding explosively to Lisa's provocation. "Who are you calling coward?" she barked. Again, she looked back at Ichigo's groin; it thumped, and the string of pre-cum was fed a heavier dose to dangle further to the ground before dripping off. Her lips tightened together, her freckles highlighted in the bright blush. "Ain't no way I'm afraid!"

A morbid part of Lisa's mind figured that Hiyori was soon to storm off, and the situation was going to be downright boring; even if she was in the mood to fuck the newbie herself, it didn't seem particularly appeasing to her unless there was an audience. But it seemed that Hiyori was willing to come through!

The loudmouthed blonde didn't walk over; she stormed over like a woman on a mission! In a fit, she kicked over a rock before continuing her course. Before Ichigo knew it, the pint-sized Visored was imposing in his personal space. Lisa had already moved aside from her, much preferring the role of spectator opposed to instigator. So with his cock uninhibited, looking down at Hiyori, Ichigo shyly noticed how he stretched out to her; she was so close, his tip was almost smearing its pre-cum above her navel.

Standing up on her tiptoes, wanting to get in his flushed face as much as possible, she snipped, "I ain't afraid of no dickhead like you!" And before Ichigo could retort, she grabbed and _choked_ his erection!

"_Oi!_" Ichigo jumped a bit, unsure if it was because her sudden handling of him, or if it was because of the tightness of her fist. Then she pulled on him, but yanking was probably a better description. Unlike Lisa, her lack of experience was evident. She simply locked her fingers in a fierce grip and tugged on him. Her methods were so extreme, so vigorous, Ichigo's pelvis was yanked along with Hiyori's fist. "_Ow!_" Ichigo made a stupid mistake by trying to control the wave of his body; even without her mask donned, for her size, Hiyori was deceptively strong!

Grabbing a fistful of his gi with the hand not locked around his dick, Hiyori growled, "Stop acting so stupid, dickhead! This is to clear that pervert, dickhead brain of yours and get back to training!"

"What-what part of this has anything to do with training?!" blabbered Ichigo, looking past Hiyori's scowl, down to where she held him in her tight possession.

"Don't make her repeat herself," Lisa chimed in instead. She was standing at a more advantageous distance, her eyes lost behind a glare. "This is to calm you down, make you less tense to handle you Hollow powers."

"Bullshit~_gyuh…!_" Ichigo could hardly rebuke the theory. As much as he wanted to deny it, release was probably a good idea. With a pervert and a sadist standing against him, disagreement was probably not an option anyway. If Hiyori could only stop choking his prick – which was now painfully swollen and turning purple at the tip – he might actually, secretly enjoy it.

Hiyori, while not concerned with the condition of Ichigo's erection, felt it was necessary to kneel down to confront the matter at hand in a more personal setting. She frowned at the thing bobbing in front of her; it was truly hard and rigid, perhaps thanks to her rough treatment of it. To her, having not watched or seen as much porn as Lisa could boast, the male anatomy looked weird and foreign. But she at least had a reasonable amount of understanding as to how to handle it.

Scowling, fang peaking out of the corner of her mouth, Hiyori inspected Ichigo's length. She thought he'd keep moaning about not wanting this; he'd decided to be smart and shut up, though that yielded the assumption that he really _was_ a closet pervert!

Her finger pressed down on his tip before letting it spring and bob to its rigid post. She muttered something about how perverted it looked. Ichigo was about to – stupidly – confront her accusation about his scrutinized anatomy, but Hiyori went forward with her process. The tip of her tongue extended from her semi-wide 'O'-shaped mouth and took a tentative lap at the phallus. With her lick, she received a generous taste of his pre-cum as it smeared across her taste buds. Her scowl took the tone of revilement when she felt the slimy substance stick and chase after her tongue as it pulled back into her mouth; she'd no decorum, and instead of swallowing despite the unlikeable texture, she spat it out. A bit of spittle hung at her bottom lip before she wiped it away with the back of her arm.

"That was gross," she grumbled up to the hard-breathing boy. And despite her announcement, Hiyori went back in, this time for a longer duration of licking. The pre-cum was quickly swept around his cockhead, as that was the area Hiyori chose to let her swirling tongue dance. At her height, meeting his groin meant stretching herself from her knees to take on the rigid shaft; gripping it at the base and manually angling it made her 'chore' easier.

As inexperienced as she was, she proved tenacious. With Ichigo's phallus pointing straight, Hiyori stubbornly strove past her gag reflex and forced him to her gullet. Her eyes squinted uncomfortably as she tried to swallow him more, tears provoked from the corners of her eyes. She stifled a cough – rather, was _forced to_ – against the dick, and then tried vainly to consume more. Ichigo was wide-eyed while he watched this small girl swallow so much of his admittedly-large cock. From the sidelines, even Lisa couldn't hide her impressed look at Hiyori's ability to handle herself against such a sizeable morsel. Perversion, she mused while taking a comfortable seat, could lead prudes to extraordinary feats. Hopefully Hiyori's moxie would last and keep Lisa entertained.

"_Guh!_" Ichigo's head lulled back. His fists – which had tried to stay stuck at his side and refuse participation – unclenched to hold onto either side of Hiyori's head, thumbs above the bands of her pigtails. His cockhead was lodged inside Hiyori's undulating esophagus, and from the way her features contorted and her breathing was shallow and rapid, it was clear that she was not comfortable. Another second was too much for her; her throat rejected the intruder, but she refused to let it escape her mouth. Her right cheek bulged as Ichigo poked firmly against it. Even with her mouth stuffed and her cheek protruding, her glare up at him was quite fierce, as though he was the one to blame. An argument for afterwards; Ichigo was too invested to claim innocence. Also, with fanged teeth above and below, perhaps it was safer to let Hiyori believe what she wanted.

After sloppily slurping the prick, an excess of saliva trickling down the shaft to the contracting scrotum below, Hiyori spat out her mouthful and coughed violently. Ichigo's cock, in the meantime, sprung back to full salute, unyielding in its silent, but apparent desire. More pre-cum spilled down from the tip, and Hiyori sneered at it like an obstacle.

"_Oi_, dickhead! How long is it gonna stay up like that? I'm _not_ going to be here all day!" Even so, she once again leveled out the arching member and consumed it. Not as deep as before, she now sought to employ more effort with her tongue, twirling it around the head to sup the sweet/salty flavor.

It was then that Ichigo, to Hiyori's latest complaint, made the mistake of returning verbal fire. "It's your fault! You won't stop!" It seemed like a good idea to try to dissuade her for a moment – and convince himself he was a helpless victim of circumstance – but he quickly realized the folly when, with half of his cock jammed down her throat, Hiyori glared. The fang edging his shaft had never seemed sharper. With a sharp snap, she could puncture his inflated member.

Well, she _didn't_ do something so vicious – thankfully – but she was one for violent retaliation. Usually, her preferred target of rebuke was struck with her foot, but given that they were exposed…

"_Ghh!_" Ichigo could leap out of his skin. His balls were abruptly clenched in Hiyori's fist, none-too caressingly, either. She squeezed as if with the intent to pop them. If anything could make him flaccid, that would just about do it – but Ichigo sure wouldn't be in the mood to practice Hollowfying again anytime soon afterward.

His cock slunk wetly out of Hiyori's mouth, and her scowl seemed more severe. "Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?" she barked. Her hold on his balls tightened. "I should just cut it off, and that'll solve your pervert problem!"

Ichigo had no trouble believing that she could follow through with that threat. As frustrating as it was, he swallowed his pride behind clenched teeth, a look of compliance crossing painfully on his face. Hiyori, though she normally would've smirked or taunted him in some way, just gave a twitch at the corner of her scowling mouth, opened wide, and slid deep back onto the erection. Her tongue pressed against the underside, helping as she tested just how deep she could swallow Ichigo's length. With some discipline and force – and a raspy gag – she took him partially into her throat; she counted herself fortunate and wise to have taken a deep breath prior.

Ichigo trembled, hands fisting at his sides. His thick cock curving into Hiyori's quite narrow esophagus – she was a small thing, after all – was slightly uncomfortable, but the new sensation of it…! He willed himself not to seize the blonde brat's head.

Forcing her to swallow his dick, however, proved an unnecessary need; eyes screwed shut with a mask of displeasure and determination, Hiyori bobbed vigorously, almost _furiously_, on his cock. But she was no expert. There were many slip-ups, when the angling wasn't straight and Ichigo was prodding the inside of her cheek or he popped out entirely; on those occasions, Hiyori would snarl, curse, and shove him straight back down her throat.

Why was it so easy for the women on Lisa's perverted videos? Yes, Hiyori had snuck a viewing here and there, condemning Lisa and the other perverts of the Visored while keeping this secret. She'd thought simply mimicking the actress' motions would be enough, but apparently it took more skill than a simple virgin could manage on a first go.

And despite her inexperience, both Ichigo and Lisa were pleasantly impressed. Ichigo could hardly keep his hips from stabbing towards Hiyori's gullet. Lisa, on the other hand, didn't need to control herself. Long had she been bored, starved to indulge in perverted activities. A part of her thought of substituting Hiyori, but maybe the uptight blonde was in more need of a good dicking. Therefore, with one leg drawn up on the rock she sat on, Lisa egged her arousal with tentative rubs, not bothering to move aside her white panties, finding the friction of smooth cloth against her hot snatch intense and teasing for the main event.

Hiyori was likeminded. Switching balls for shaft, her hand helped guide her. She was distracted, but didn't want to show that her concern was building at the core of her thighs. But she wasn't going to let Ichigo see her fingering herself because she was riled from sucking his cock; aside from that, her sweatpants weren't as accommodating as Lisa's skirt was.

Ichigo hissed. Hiyori chose no longer to deep-throat, and instead focus on the very sensitive head. Her lips sealed beyond the helmet before drawing back. Within, her tongue flicked rapidly – a little haphazardly – against his slit in an effort to get something to happen. Employing more, her fist also joined in the effort by stroking.

Ichigo was overwhelmed. He couldn't keep his hips still any more, and they were jerking, throwing Hiyori out of sync. Of course, this did not sit well with her, and she intended to tell him. "Stop it, dickhead! Can't you see-?!"

"_I can't-!_" Impulsively, the boy grabbed his prick and pulled on it.

Hiyori's anger faltered. "Wha…?" She didn't see the streak of white until it was landing on her forehead. She stammered, awkwardly trying to shuffle out of the range of fire, but she was too slow. Freckles, nose and inevitably mouth were all dowsed by the pale spray before she escaped the withering reach.

While she kept her lips tightly closed after the overly-bitter taste crept in her mouth, Ichigo was reeling. He wasn't even looking apologetic for the landings of his orgasm, even after catching sight of her look of mortification. Well, she more or less _wanted_ these results, albeit in a different place; from the grimace on her red face, she would've preferred _anywhere_ but her face, least of all her mouth.

A bit of an apology should be in order, he supposed with a clearing mind. "Sor…"

"_What the hell, dickhead?!_" She leapt to her feet after wiping a good portion of seed from her face onto her palm. The saturated hand was immediately shoved against Ichigo's face, an attempt to get him to taste it. "If you're gonna do _that_, why don't _you_ have a taste too?!" Ichigo trying to protest only had him finding his parted lips filled with Hiyori's juicy fingers, tasting pungent and salty and damned _unpleasant_! He gagged, but Hiyori relentlessly added a second helping of his jizz before he could get a word in edgewise.

His mouth seared with his own essence; he could barf! He wanted to spit it all out when Hiyori – still angrily jabbering and cussing – finally backed off, but spitting it back on her face wouldn't bode well. Humiliation was swallowed along with the slime; it burned his throat! And, _still_, Hiyori went on berating him.

"It tastes like scum!" she continued. "And socks! Nasty, disgusting, sweaty _socks!_" She was perhaps going too far, exaggerating too much. If she really disliked it so much, she wouldn't stand for letting even a drop remain on her face, let alone the significant remnants streaked across her freckled face.

When Ichigo scowled – face flushed from embarrassment and rising anger – she slapped him. "What's that look for, huh, dumbass?! You think _you_ have a right to be angry?!" She jabbed vigorously, aggressively at his chest. "It's all because of you!"

Before she could carry on testing the limits of Ichigo's patience, she was suddenly swept back, an arm around her midsection and a hand over her jabbering mouth. She cursed and tried to shoot a glare back at Lisa.

Lisa hadn't wanted to interfere, but Hiyori's temperament was risking the show. Ichigo blinked confusedly. He hadn't expected Lisa to return after she had seemingly disappeared in the sidelines.

Usually indifferent, her expression slanted in a subtle scowl. Reining Hiyori in when she was in a rant was such a bother. "You're hopeless," she grumbled, and Ichigo didn't know who she was speaking of. The arm around Hiyori's middle dragged up, but Ichigo only noticed this when a significant portion of her body was exposed. Was it on purpose that the hem of her baggy T-shirt was dragging up the undersides of her budding breasts? Not surprisingly, there wasn't a hint of bra or any kind of support… In future comparison, Ichigo would conclude that Hiyori's womanly-figure was even more lacking than Rukia's!

It was decided that this exposure was a ploy of Lisa's, for the hand guarding the slew of cusses slid down – Hiyori badmouthing both Lisa and Ichigo in quick turns – and sought its objective. In Lisa's grip, her little body had been hoisted about an inch off the ground, so her legs kicked wildly. That would not hinder Lisa's thumb from slipping under the elastic waistband of her red sweatpants and dipping them down significantly. Apparently, the pervert Visored had also snagged the teddy-bear dotted underpants in the process, for the dip exposed the mound of Hiyori's sex. Ichigo stiffened when he was flashed her intimate parts. The discouraging onslaught of her current vulgarity was slightly put out of mind; a small, but growing donation of blood started to return to Ichigo's nether regions.

"_Oi, oi!_" Hiyori kicked her legs more frantically, though her waving arms now sought only to put her pussy away. "What'd'ya think you're doing?!" Her angry tone had a panicked edge, and Ichigo could also see that reflected in her glowering eyes. Of course, whatever growing concern Ichigo – with a less-fogged mind – had, the blond seemed determined to erase. Still fighting against Lisa's exposing efforts, she locked eyes with Ichigo and spat, "You tryin' to look, you perverted dickhead?" She made a yank upward to the waist of her pants, but Lisa had the better leverage. "Don't get any funny ideas," she continued at Ichigo, and then looked pointedly at his cock, her freckles highlighted with a red canvas. "I gonna to be a virgin bride, and I-_yah!_"

Unexpectedly, Lisa had pitched her catch onto the nearest boulder. It wasn't violent or aggressive; it was the quickest way to put Hiyori in the right spot. The fanged girl barked at Lisa for this treatment, crawling backward to try to sit up, but once again, Lisa was on her.

The slight descent of Hiyori's sweats was more than enough for a master pervert. Though she rarely got practice – both genders were often intimidated by her level of sexual keenness – her skill was something of a legendary pervert; Kon would be envious and awestruck all at once by her technique.

Hiyori was caught off guard by Lisa's tongue pressing flat against her mound. No preamble; Lisa's mouth shoved against the near-bald slit to discover the truth: Hiyori had become _drenched_ while blowing Ichigo. Her whole body seized at the start of Lisa's unprovoked onslaught. At first, Lisa's flat tongue simply undulated against the slick flesh, and then her tongue dragged upward, making sure to flex against the sensitive protrusion. Hiyori – again involuntarily – chased the departing lick as far as she could before her back could not arch any further.

"_Y-you…!_" Hiyori, normally so quick to insults, found it difficult to form a single syllable! There might've even been a trace of anxiety and need twinkling in her eyes when Lisa's tongue renewed the assault.

Ichigo's jaw was hanging as he watched. Lisa had subdued the snarky girl with naught a word. Hiyori stuttered curses and swears, but her body was cooperating nicely with Lisa's tactics. Again, she reiterated that she would be a virgin bride; if it came to it, she'd turn her sword on Lisa.

Lisa brought her head up slightly, a look of clear annoyance slanting her mouth and eyebrows. But rather quickly, she proved she had an alternative idea to suit Hiyori's wishes. A simple tilt upward behind Hiyori's thighs, and Lisa was tonguing Hiyori's anus.

The crimson highlights of Hiyori's freckles intensified when she felt the slick appendage flourish against her tight hole. "_What the hell are you doing?!_" screeched the flushed girl. She thought she'd have the fiery outburst to kick/squirm her way out of Lisa's bold approach. There was a long list of name-calling that Hiyori stammered through, but the task of Lisa's tongue was undaunted. More disturbing than the broadness of Lisa's sexual willingness was Hiyori's own tolerance for it! She could call Lisa every perverse name in the book and then some, but it wouldn't change the fact that the heat swirling at the pit of her stomach was more intense than ever in her life… and she'd yet to even reach the pinnacle of what she was experiencing!

Before reaching that climax, though, Lisa deemed it time to pull away – not without a show of her tongue running sensually across her upper lip – and then leered at Ichigo. "What are you standing there for?" she said with the sternness of a teacher whose patience was being tried by a slacker student. "You're up again."

"What?" Ichigo stuttered. He pursed his lips, swallowed, and eyed the blonde heaving on the boulder. His cock had already returned to its full splendor, so it was obvious to all that he needed no more provocation to commence on Lisa's instruction. It was what she wanted that left Ichigo curious. Was he meant to resume her work? He wasn't entirely sure, no matter how hard he was, if he was up to the task of licking someone's asshole.

Lisa's glower darkened, and Ichigo felt it was wisest not to test her limits. Cock bobbing ahead of him, he shuffled over to the space Lisa yielded to him. Hiyori pulled back defensively, but didn't scoot away. His erection aimed haphazardly at her apex; her fist was tight and ready to deck him if he made a stab towards her pussy. Horny or not, there was no way she'd lose her dream of being a virgin bride.

Lisa, however, knew of a proper compromise. With a yelp from Ichigo, she suddenly seized his prick with a firm grip. She leaned in close, and just when both he and Hiyori thought she'd display an amazing cock-sucking talent, she puckered her lips and spat on his head. The spit dripped, but the tip retained the lubricant.

Then she forcibly tugged Ichigo towards Hiyori's cleft.

This time, Hiyori sat up, snarling at them both, "I told you not to! I'm not going to…!"

Lisa shut her up simply by applying Ichigo's dick to her wet asshole. "This should be suitable, then," she said simply. Her eyes flashed briefly to Hiyori's hands; they were not fists, but they were gripping the rock she was sitting on tight enough to turn her knuckles white in anxious anticipation.

On the other hand, Ichigo wasn't sure. "I don't…" He hated being tongue-tied, but he was tripping over his words. He was a modest guy! Sexual thrills of _this_ sort; it might have been too advanced! Too much, too soon! And from what he understood, it was quite an uncomfortable experience… for the receiver…

"Get off then, you perverted dickhead!" snapped Hiyori, fang flashing in her scowl. "I don't need this!" She still, however, stayed in place, legs still opened to accommodate his standing.

Ichigo's eye ticked when she went on berating him.

"A dickhead like you; you would want to do something disgusting like putting it in my butt! No way I'd even let you!"

Ichigo hadn't even realized it, but his hands had wrapped around Hiyori's thighs for leverage.

"I'll kick your ass if you try, and then shove your Zanpakutou…!" Hiyori bit off the end of her threat when Ichigo – completely voluntarily – made a shove against her anus. With Lisa's earlier wet probing, she was more yielding to his girth. The difference in size between them was an obstacle, but Ichigo was determined to push through. "_Yah~!_" She reached down and held tightly onto Ichigo's forearms when he plowed forward into her bowels. "_You… you dickhead! You bald, stupid, butt-sniffing dickhead!_"

_Shut up!_ Ichigo wanted to shout, but when his mouth opened, he managed nothing more than a deep, airy noise. Her colon gripped him tight, making it a drawn-out invasion. Her yowls alternated between curse-filled, droning moans and high-pitched squeals. Ichigo shuffled his hips, trying to twist and wriggle his way into the slim girl. She hissed and spit, sometimes having no choice but to actively help him move into her. With no small evidence of disdain, she lifted her hips off the rock a bit and moved down in time with Ichigo's final push. Both groaned deeply as Ichigo sank in the last two inches. Hiyori, trembling slightly, settled back down and adjusted to the feeling of her ass being stretched like this.

Lisa – up-close and personal with the sight – was _very_ satisfied. Blatantly, she shoved aside her panties to tend to her aching arousal. Her stash of dildos would've been nice to have on hand; maybe she would have even had an opportunity to try her untested strap-on. For now, nimble fingers would have to sate her moist lust.

Ichigo stayed motionless, even as Hiyori – recovering from the momentary shock of taking a cock into her for the first time – wriggled a bit on his shaft. "I can't believe… _uhn_… you did it," she hissed, wincing. Ichigo wasn't sure if that was reproach in her tone or satisfaction. He hesitated, letting her get used to the sensation; he himself needed a moment to take in the exotic feeling. "You'll… pay for this, dickhead." And she was back. Though grimacing and arguably vulnerable while impaled on his dick, she was regrouping and coming back with her snarky attitude. Her insides contracted around him, and she said, "You think just shoving it up someone's ass is going to solve anything? Well, that ain't gonna stop Aizen!"

Even now, she was giving attitude? Ichigo would've been overwhelmed by her resilience if he wasn't even more so from the clenching of her ass around him. Though he had pushed into this particular hole in vengeful impulse – and the sway of the pervert blatantly doting on the slick lust between her splayed thighs – he felt as though he was the only one tongue-tied! But a bit more vulgar insulting put him into motion. He wasn't one to be merciless, but his tolerance for bratty women was limited; somehow, they just got the better of him.

He held Hiyori's hips tightly when he retracted – stealing a worried moan and a grimace from Hiyori's scowl – and pounded back in jarringly. Hiyori's little frame buckled from the ricochet, but she bit down whatever sound she'd make, limiting it to a mild grunt. Though new to anal – and taking such a broad cock, no less! – her pride stifled the noises other small first-timers might make.

Her tightness waned to make the following thrusts easier, but neither of them seemed to let the pleasure show on their faces. For Hiyori, it was much simpler to quash the evidence of enjoyment; one didn't _love_ anal right offhand! Ichigo, however, struggled – and failed – to suppress the signs of pleasure. Trying to close his mouth left him baring his gritting teeth and making a mixture of noises between hissing and moaning. His half-squinted eyes aimed down, watching his erection plunge into the hole behind Hiyori's wet and engorged slit. Even though he had made several deep thrusts, his pace often hitched from her tightness.

Hiyori's legs were already appropriately spread, so Ichigo only needed to grasp her waist. She was so light, it was like hoisting a large doll towards him. She may have been several times his age, but she hardly looked much older than his sisters! It made a pang of remorse or shame form like a lead ball in his gut, but when Hiyori – collecting herself enough after the initial shock of anal sex – started off with insults again ("Baldy!" "Dickhead!" "Small dick!") it wasn't so hard to pummel her ass with a bit more ferocity.

"_Dammit_," he muttered amongst his deep groans, his hands slipping a little on Hiyori's slender hips. He made a grab for her shoulder, pulling her tighter to his crotch.

Hiyori, of course, had a problem with that. She smacked at his hand, scowling. "Whaddya think you're doing?! Don't grab at me like that!" She ended with a contorted expression after Ichigo's cock shoved in her at an awkward angle. She smacked him again, this time at his arm. Her knees knocked against him, and she was making sure that his conquest was not easy.

There was the option to pull out, but Ichigo was in no mood to do Hiyori any favors. Instead, he grabbed her calves sturdily and propped them forward. With a cursing shout from her, Ichigo nearly bent her in half, her knees hovering inches above her face, feet bouncing with every minor jostle of her body. Their sizes had never been more apparent than when Ichigo was looming over Hiyori, his arms braced on the boulder while his body bent her legs forward.

Deeper penetration… Lisa mentally commended Ichigo for his choice, smirking to herself when Hiyori shrieked at the more intense impalement. Lisa stood up to take a different position; she perched somewhere in front of Ichigo and Hiyori. And once again, her fingers resumed their practice.

Unlike Hiyori's sparse but unmanaged hair, Lisa's mound had its dark curls trimmed and kept in a thin, triangular patch. She had tried bald before, liked the smoothness, but felt some sort of 'design' was more captivating. Also, of more intense tastes, she preferred the coarse tickle of her pubic hair against her palm as she played the strings of her pleasure. Dipping particularly deep, she watched Ichigo intently through her sharp glasses.

"_Dickhead! You're doing it too hard, dickhead!_" Hiyori wailed and droned. Try as she might, she couldn't hold it back anymore when Ichigo shoved deep into her ass. His tempo was found, and she grunted in time with it. "_Don't you know how to do it?!_"

Ichigo could roll his eyes – if he'd been in his right mind – since, having admitted that she hadn't any experience, she was in no position to give out demands. Then again, it was _she_ who was being penetrated. Reasons and technicalities… Ichigo would have none of that.

Despite Hiyori's protests, he hastened his pace. He wasn't the type to prolong the experience, though Hiyori constantly made it difficult not to want to make her shut up! Apart from clapping his hand over her mouth – risking her sinking that devilish fang into his finger – the only way he could put pause to her running mouth was pummeling her ass. She certainly responded when he made his thrusts harder.

Hiyori was finally getting a handle on her expressions and utterances. As much as she'd like to cuss this dickheaded baldy out, she found that closing her mouth made it so much easier to keep her faltering attitude in check. If she allowed the free expression, she would be crying out in pleasure. The initial insertion had been awkward, but these bursts of exotic sensations dwarfed the tame waves of standard masturbation. And though she was forcing down her voice, she could risk every now and then a "Dickhead".

Regardless of her forced silence, she was as red in the face as Ichigo. Ichigo, himself, could not find the strength to show the kind of restraint that she demonstrated. He was already heading to orgasm; it may have been his second round, but the tightness of Hiyori's canal sped the process up. And bringing his eyes up – even for a moment – certainly helped.

He made first eye contact with Lisa, and she was staring intensely at him. When they locked eyes – it seemed she had been watching intently for sometime – a shady grin curved one side of her lips. She flourished her left leg, spreading her thighs to the point where her schoolgirl's skirt rode up and brazenly displayed her crotch.

As intimate as Ichigo was with Hiyori at the moment, seeing Lisa so exposed, her fingers dipping between her slick lips, made him swallowed hard. It took him a few moments of watching the movement of her hand to realize that she was in fact thrusting them in time with his own jabs into Hiyori. On her own, Lisa could give quite the show; unabashed to expose her teased snatched, she made a tantalizing display of pushing at the hem of her almost-too-short shirt, lifting it slowly. Where Ichigo expected to see evidence of a bra, he instead found that all that was waiting for his gaze the higher her shirt was drawn was naught but the underside of creamy hills. And so slowly more… The edge of the light brown areola…

_SMACK!_

"_What are you looking at, stupid ass?!_"

Ichigo's eyes were drawn down from the more-alluring Lisa to the brat he was currently impaling. "If you're gonna fuck my ass," she barked, "at least do it right!"

Was there anything that could come out of her mouth that didn't piss Ichigo off?! His passion rekindled, he returned to a vigorous pace with Hiyori, seeking his own release and a way to irk Hiyori. Her face was scrunching again; her little body still resisted his thrusts, and though her pleasure was overwhelming, fitting around him was a strain. The discomfort of her extreme position even intensified the feeling.

Hiyori continued to clench her teeth when Ichigo returned his full focus to her. The fluttering, increasing moans came out with the elegance of expelling steam. Her eyes – narrowed – glared at him, and he glared back. The contempt for each other spurred Ichigo on, shortening his thrusts, but making them stronger. Hiyori's small cheeks were beaten red from Ichigo's thighs.

Too proud to give him the satisfaction, Hiyori made no indication that her pleasure was rising to the point of overflow. With Ichigo's sometimes-bumbling movements, he didn't detect the tense lifting of her hips. She made… She _forced_ herself not to gape and let the wail of ecstasy escape. Her expression twisted more towards pain when her scream was suppressed to a droning, high-pitched noise. But for all her efforts to hide her orgasm, her body betrayed her. Ichigo was startled when his lap was suddenly doused by a gush of fluid. Her little cunt was spraying clear fluid on him, her body tensing with each discharge.

Even her rectum was contracting in time! Ichigo faltered, falling over Hiyori – proving Hiyori's flexibility – until he caught himself on one hand. His erection thumped inside her twice before his hot essence began to spurt into her bowels.

"_Gah! Uhn…!_" Ichigo twitched violently as he finished pouring his load into Hiyori's ass. It took a moment for them both to come down from their climax. Hiyori felt a bit of relief when Ichigo began to deflate, though his seed remained potent inside of her.

Heaving, relishing this wave of euphoria, Hiyori allowed Ichigo a moment to share the rapture with her before she was back to her old ways. Her bent legs gave her leverage to propel Ichigo off of her. He slipped out with ease, and from her dislodged hole, spilled his hot semen. Hiyori meant to stand up, but something kept her legs elevated.

And it wasn't until she felt a tongue probing her semi-gaping anus that she realized what was happening. "_Hey!_" Hiyori scowled down between her sprawled thighs – ankles still caught between her sweatpants – to where Lisa dipped her head. Lisa wouldn't bother to address Hiyori's anger, for even a second would waste a tasty drop leaking from Hiyori's asshole.

Hiyori sneered, called Lisa a freak, but didn't object to her task. After Ichigo had rammed her so thoroughly, the anal-tonguing felt like a soothing massage. Lisa sometimes would pucker her lips to kiss the hole – but never slurp. She drank a fair amount of sperm, but most of it, she swirled around the white mess.

All the while, Ichigo – panting, heaving, and slouching – watched, hoping that Lisa was not about to entice him to get hard again. Going two rounds was exhausting, even for one known for his stamina. To his relief, though, Lisa seemed to be done with him, more satisfied to taste his essence on Hiyori.

When she had finally away – some minutes later – her lips and chin were smeared with white. Her mouth was closed, retaining all of the semen instead of gulping it all down. Hiyori, lips pursed with apprehension, rudely asked what she was up to. Opening her mouth to reply would've lost her the precious bounty. Instead, Lisa answered with action, lunging forward to seal Hiyori's mouth in a deep, searing and wet kiss. Catching the back of Hiyori's head cemented their mouths together so that Lisa could thoroughly exchange the sour collection. Her tongue slithered against Hiyori's, daringly passing by that fang whose presence made Ichigo's earlier blowjob a thing of some worry.

Lisa hadn't anything to fear, though. Bold as she may be, Hiyori knew better than to provoke anyone besides Shinji on the Visored squad. A garbled protest was all she could do before she was forced to consume a good deal of the bitter slime transferred to her mouth, scalding the insides of her esophagus all the way down.

When there was naught left but mere trickles, Lisa swallowed as well and pulled back. From the remnants on her chin stretched a string that snapped when tugged too far. With a triumphant flourish, her tongue mopped up what it could reach to also be gulped, showing Hiyori that the taste and texture didn't bother her in the slightest.

Hiyori remained tense – breathless, too – even when the schoolgirl-cosplayer stood up and backed away. "Is… is that it?" spat the blonde, trying even now to seem bold.

Lisa ignored her, instead shifting her attention to where Ichigo was standing awkwardly in the puddle of his hakama. It seemed he had the presence of mind to retrieve them, but not to pull them on. As if it were a chore of hers, she bent down low, and even as he stammered from her closeness to his still-exposed, flagging cock, she grabbed the hem and drew his pants up onto him; the absence of undergarments was a non-issue. Without the sash, Ichigo had to seize his trousers to keep them from falling.

"That's enough of a break," Lisa said sternly, as though this whole venture was none of her idea. She pivoted towards the exit. "Now that the two of you have gotten it out of your system, you can continue your training. I won't have you two complaining anymore."

Ichigo stuttered when he noticed that she was on her way out of the underground wasteland. "Where are you going?"

"To attend to business of my own," she said sharply, not letting on the fact that her panties were soaked and her lust not yet slaked. The business she had to attend to resided in her own space elsewhere, in a box of assorted toys, clamps, and other delightfully-perverted things.

While Ichigo was left stupefied, he quickly found that Hiyori – in spite of having the majority of trauma thrust upon her – had already recovered, pants up in place and deadly slipper in hand. "Well, dickhead?! What the fuck are you waiting for?!"

She went at him with a savage yell.


End file.
